Black Pearls
by YorickVanRotten
Summary: In an academy where only the gifted can enter Jack is one of the damned. The son of a courtesan and an unknown father he battles daily with bullies and life who make his days a living hell but Jack has his own Hell to offer. The darkness rises and Jack will be in the center of it.


**Chapter 01: The Heartless**

Jack learned how to watch the world from afar, he learned not to be a part of it, he learned how to be different.

His days passed silently, observing thinking of the things he could never have. All the other students at the Yami Academy, a school of magic, avoided him and those who didn't bullied him. But Jack got used to the beating, it didn't bother him as it used to, he didn't cry to himself every night like he used to; nor the cutter on the desk seemed pleasantly friendly to him. Jack learned, he learned many things all by himself. He learned to live with his depression, his misery and his suicidal thoughts but most of all he learned how to live with his shattered heart. It didn't hurt him, it quiet down, his heart wasn't there anymore.

At the Academy all Jack did was go from class after class taking even extra classes he didn't have to. His days were full of studying even at break times and holydays. His scores were the highest and he always launched to the top. Yet the professors kept a worrying eye on him.

 _"There's something wrong with that child."_ They always whispered.

Jack never went home during the holydays, he always stayed in the Academy's dorms and sometimes it was just him the caretaker and a few professors left behind. Home belonged to his mother, the red-haired angel Lucretia, as they called her, and her lovers. Lucretia was a famous entertainer back in her younger days. She sang and danced for rich lords and barons and offered some extra service if their pockets could afford it. Lucretia had made a big name of herself and people traveled from all over the Free Lands to see her perform. Jack was always backstage watching his mother conquering the stage and men's hearts.

Jack never knew his father, Lucretia never talked about him. It wasn't that it was a secret she just didn't know who Jack's father was. Jack lived with the dream that his father will show up one day, take him away and give him a better life. But his father never came and never will and the dream died soon after.

Lucretia saved her coin and build a mansion outside of Ravenwing on the top of a hill, with arched windows and white columns like looking like a roman emperor's summer cottage. She even made a roman garden with statues and swings at the back of the house and baths for herself and her guests, with servants and maids to serve her as she pleased. Lucretia had many patrons all over the Free Lands who dressed her with coin, gold and silver almost every day just for a few hours of entertainment. It wasn't a surprise that she saved enough to build a castle for herself and even have more on the side to spend. Money was never a problem for Lucretia and thought she lived her childhood years in the gutters and eating trash she was now wealthy enough to bathe in her own gold every single day.

While Lucretia enjoyed her hard earned luxury Jack was left at his own mercy. She tossed him to a tutor and his days were spend going in and out of his study room and play room. Jack didn't have a social life; the only humans he interacted with was his old nana and the tutor. He was always alone ever and if it wasn't for his nana he would've died in one of the hallways and nobody would even notice until he started to smell. Jack felt dead, he was dead, esoterically. He wasn't living he was only existing and he had no idea why. He was an accident that _just_ happened like so many other accidents. And this is what he believed in for many, many years.

When Lucretia organized her fancy parties, once a week, Jack was set at the side and locked in his chambers so he won't bother the guests or see something he shouldn't see. It wasn't that Lucretia didn't love him, she only passed him on the side and more of the time it was like Jack didn't exist. He was just a child living in that house with no particular reason. He was a ghost among those walls and whoever accidentally laid eyes on him thought Jack was a lost spirit.

Even the Academy treated him like an accident. They couldn't accept a courtesan's son was smarter than the baron's son and more gifted than the crown prince himself. It wasn't possible and even if Jack did everything by himself they still didn't trusted him, they couldn't see anything good coming out of him. They just left him pass the classes, waited until he graduated and free themselves from his presence once and for all. After all, a courtesan's son didn't belong in the Academy only the truly gifted and truly rich belonged there. But Jack didn't mind he learned how to live with it, he had to after all since nothing ever changed.

'We heard your mother was an excellent singer.' The older boy said pinning Jack at the wall. 'I'm sure you have a lovely singing voice.' He grinned. 'Why don't you sing to us?'

The other guys laughed mocking him. Jack watched them with his lifeless big blue eyes. He didn't say a word, he didn't beg, he didn't plead for his life, he didn't ask to be left alone he didn't asked to be saved. He only stood there knowing well what was going to happen. He had no escape after all and if he resisted things would get worse.

Though he often wondered since when he started acting like a well-trained and loyal dog. Since when did he stopped crying and begging them to leave him alone. He couldn't remember. One day he woke up and he was blank and empty and he got comfortable in the emptiness and silence around him. He didn't care anymore.

'Come Jacky boy sing for us.' The older boy trapped Jack in his arms. Jack was taller than him and with one push he could move him away but the older boy and his friends were stronger and Jack had little muscle on him to spear.

Jack breathed quietly and closed his eyes.

'What is it, you want a kiss? The older boy laughed. 'Then I'll give you one.' He raised his fist and punched Jack's face. Jack hit the wall as his nose bled. 'Sing damn you _sing_.' The older boy kept punching his and hitting him until Jack feel on his knees and the boy started kicking him in the stomach. Jack didn't try to cover himself maybe he wanted to die, maybe he wanted them to beat him so badly he'll close his eyes forever and never wake up again.

When the older boy finished the others took their turn. All of them charged at Jack kicking him and stepping on him as hard as they could. One even grabbed Jack's tie pulling him back and almost chocking him. Jack's body was aching and his rib cracked. His mouth and nose were bleeding and with every breath he took, blood run down his throat. The students kept hitting him and hitting him. Someone jumped and stepped on Jack's head giving him a terrible headache. Jack thought his brain had burst out but he was still alive, alive and conscious. When they finally stopped they tore Jack's books and notes scattering pieces of paper all over him and tossed his bag on him. Jack laid on the ground motionless as they left giggling and warning him they would come back.

Jack turned on his back feeling the sting of his broken rib. He stared at the gloomy ceiling as the yellow lamp light danced on the walls making the shadows shift, small then big. He closed his eyes and thought he was dead but the noise of students coming from the other hallways weren't leaving him to rest. Slowly he gathered up his tired bones, he crawled on the wall like an old man and got back up on his feet. He took whatever was left of his books and notes, stuffing them carelessly in his bag and went to his room. He locked the door in case someone might visit him late at night when he'll be most vulnerable. Nobody wanted his enemy to catch him while sleeping.

He grabbed the little mirror on his desk and looked at his broken reflection. This time they took it too far. His face was swollen and black, his lips torn but his nose was fine it wasn't broken, though it could be. Jack hated the thought of having a crooked nose.

He filled a bowl with water and washed the blood away revealing more bruises and cuts. His face was pretty much damaged and ached, he felt the pain throbbing under his skin, he didn't know where it hurt the most. As it seemed he had to take the entire weak off, he couldn't show up in class half beaten, half dead. He sat on the desk's chair, his rib complaining. He grabbed a cloth from his drawer, torn it and tied it as tight as he could around his chest. The ribs will take time to heal but time was something he didn't have. He didn't want to cut off classes for anyone or anything.

Jack took a few deep breaths and rubbed his hands, placing them where it hurt. He focused and muttered the words. His palms started to glow with a ghostly bluish light and he felt warmth slipping in to his body, through his skin touching his bones and making the pain go away. It was a remedy and after this little trick his rib won't be a problem. It would heal but he won't have the strength to fix his face for the next couple of days.

 _"Magic comes with penalties"_ his teachers always said. _"You can do one thing but not the other there must be always limits to what we do depending the amount of magic we use. For example, if it's to fix a broken vase a small percent of the magic is used. If it's used for healing, depending on the injury, it needed fifty to ninety percent of the magic owned, which meant three days with only ten percent of magic to spear."_

It wasn't pleasant for Jack since it would put a limit to his work but at least his rib will be fine.

Jack fell on his bed after cleaning up. He was too tired to take his trousers off or his shoes. He was too bored and all he wanted to do was sleep. Then the wicked thoughts came charging in his aching head as if he hadn't enough pain already. His life was so empty, the emptiness was shattering him. There was no goal, no purpose nothing. It was just him, Jack, been a good student a good son. Not messing around not doing anything stupid, trying not to displease anyone, obeying, observing, been loyal, been very, very quiet, been a ghost. The last word lingered in his head: _a ghost_ , it repeated its self over and over again. Maybe it was better if he died, he would save himself from all the pain in the world and he won't be a burden to anyone, especially his mother who had no idea what to do with him.

Lucretia thought Jack would stay young, controllable and most of all hidden; she never thought he would grow up and want to make a life for himself. She completely abandoned him; it's been four years since he last saw her.

But then Jack remembered it was a lie; he _had_ seen her in those four years. The first year when he went to the Academy, he had gone home during the winter holydays. Lucretia had a party that day. She had everything organized and the only thing she wasn't expecting was Jack's return. So she gave him a few pocket money and send him to a brothel in Ravenwing to spend the night until the next day. Jack took the money but didn't go to the brothel. He slept in the stables with his suitcase under his head for a pillow. Nobody noticed him, maybe the stableman but he didn't mind him. The next days he slept in his room as Lucretia partied her holidays off. Jack saw her once in those four years and never again. She didn't even write to him and he didn't write to her. She must've forgotten he was still around. If Jack died she won't even notice, she might as well not cry, she might as well party at his funeral. They were strangers in their own house. Wrong. In Lucretia's house, because it was never Jack's home. Jack was more like a guest or a pet tossed at the side.

Jack covered his eyes with his arm as the tears fought their way out. His lip trembled and his heart shivered, his entire body felt numb and his world grew even darker. Where were all those heroes he read in stories, the ones who save the distressed and the lonely? He wished for a hero to save him from the world, from his mother, from the bullies and from his self. The tears rolled down his eyes making the tinny cuts on his cheek sting. The pain was terrible but the pain inside him was even more unbearable and that kind of pain never goes away not even with magic.


End file.
